home under the bridge, Iâm gonna catch a couple and start my own flock. I could race them. Thereâs prize money in that. And you can make even more betting on your bird. Or against it.â
âYou donât have any place to keep birds.â
âI could build a coop outside my bedroom window, over the kitchen roof.â
Ren didnât doubt Sonny had the skill to build a coop, there was nothing he couldnât do with his hands. Just the same, he didnât like the idea at all.
âI donât know about that.â He frowned. âKeeping a bird in a cage. I reckon itâs cruel.â
âItâs a coop, not a cage. If I can find enough wood and wire Iâll make it as big as a house. Anyway, you train pigeons and you donât need to keep them locked up. They fly away and come back home to you. No harm to the bird in that.â
âSâpose so.â
âIs so.â
As they approached the iron bridge Ren heard hollering up ahead. He whispered to Sonny to keep low and stay quiet. They moved off the track and lay in the long grass, Sonnyâs knee digging into a length of metal pipe. He pulled it out of a tangle of weeds, put one end to his shoulder and pointed it at Ren.
âYouâre fucken dead.â
Sonny stuck his head up above the line of grass and saw a group of men underneath the bridge stomping around a campfire. They looked like a long-lost tribe. The men passed a flagon of wine between them while they sang and kicked up dust.
âWe have trouble,â Sonny said. âWeâre gonna have to take them, Ren.â
âYouâll be doing it on your own.â
âPlease yourself, coward.â
Sonny stood up, lifted the pipe to his shoulder, moved forward through the grass and took aim at the men. One of them saw him coming, nodded to the others, took a couple of steps forward himself and raised his hands in surrender.
âDonât be shooting at me, youngster. Are ya from the authorities?â he asked Sonny, humouring the boy.
âWeâre outlaws,â Sonny answered.
âThank Jesus Christ for that one.â The man smiled, relaxing his hands at his sides. âSo are we. How about you be polite and come over here and introduce yourselves?â
After some coaxing the boys walked closer to the camp. The man offered them a seat, which they refused. The other men took no notice of the boys and went on shuffling around the fire, humming a tune and continuing to pass the bottle.
âThis is my camp,â the man said. âSo you can end the poor manners and stop pointing that weapon at me,â he ordered Sonny. âIf not, Iâm as likely to take it and shove it up your arse.â
He made the comment with a smile on his face, but it was enough of a threat for Sonny to throw the length of pipe to the ground. The man clapped his hands together.
âGood boy. Thatâs what I like to see. They call me Tex and Iâm boss down here.â He pointed at Sonny. âWhat name do ya go by?â
Sonny wasnât accustomed to providing his name to a complete stranger but he offered up Sonny Brewer without thinking about it.
Tex took a step closer and studied Sonnyâs face. The man was delighted by what he found. âThat eye you have there, I believe it may be a true wonder. Come take a look at this,â he barked at the others. âWe have someone special visiting this morning. Howâd you earn such an eyeball as that, son?â
Sonny rubbed the knuckle of his thumb over his eye, unhappy with the attention it was getting.
âI was born with it.â
Tex gently patted him on the shoulder. âGood for you. Itâs a true beauty. I have never seen an eye like it. And itâs a sign, we can be certain of that.â
âWhat sort of sign?â Sonny asked.
âCanât say right yet,â Tex answered, seemingly holding something back.
Neither Sonny nor Ren was sure